


Lost Things

by pretentiousashell



Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bermuda Triangle, Crossover, Gen, IN SPACE!, Jedi Finn, Monsters, Post-Discovery S1, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pseudoscience, Time Travel, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:44:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentiousashell/pseuds/pretentiousashell
Summary: "Do you think we'll go missing?""Commander, you never know."A crossover in which Michael Burnham, Finn, and Thor find themselves in the same place at the same time with no idea of how they arrived there and how to get out.





	Lost Things

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be mostly silly but I am making up some sort of plot. Idk how long the story will be yet, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

# Michael

They got the orders from the admiralty late according to the ship’s time.

“The locals are calling it the new Bermuda Triangle,” Cornwell said, looking especially annoyed about it. “We need you to go check it out. Everyone else in the fleet is at the opposite end of the quadrant, and, well, you have the spore drive.”

“Of course, Admiral,” Saru said respectfully. He was always so respectful.

Michael made sure to sink into the background as they continued to work out details. She remembered standing on the bridge months ago in civilian clothing and threatening another mutiny. Although everything was technically forgiven, she didn’t want to upset the balance, so she stayed quiet.

When the call was over, Saru turned to her. “Inform Lieutenant Stamets.”

Michael nodded, getting to her feet. “Do you think we’ll go missing?” she asked, trying for a playful smirk.

Saru pursed his lips, but Michael could tell that he was amused. “Commander, you never know.”

 

* * *

 

 

Paul was relaxed about the new orders. He’d jumped a few times since the incident in the Mirror Universe, and nothing had gone wrong yet, so Michael figured that his reasons to worry were diminishing. In contrast, Tilly stood behind him, chewing on her lip and pretending not to listen as she plugged in coordinates.

“Does he want us to jump, like, _now_?” Paul asked.

“I’ll let you know,” Michael said, feeling strange as Paul patted her distractedly on the shoulder before turning away.

Tilly looked up, catching Michael’s gaze for a moment. They nodded at each other in perfect understanding—this was not going to go badly. They would not let it.

Michael left for the bridge.

 

* * *

 

 

When Saru gave the order to jump, Michael felt the anxiety left by Lorca’s command deep in her bones, but she ignored it, clenching her teeth against the wave of nausea.

They reached their destination intact, but Michael frowned when she saw that her instruments immediately started to absolutely (for lack of a better term) freak out.

And then things got immediately weirder.

“Now, what is _that_ , Commander?”

Michael stared out the viewscreen for what felt like the longest pause of her life but was, in reality, probably only a few seconds before quickly turning her attention to her read-outs. “Sir, it resembles no known spacecraft in this galaxy.”

Saru frowned at her. He knew how much Michael hated admitting to a lack of knowledge, but Michael was absorbed in her readings, eyes wide. “Commander?” he prompted.

“It…” Michael furrowed her brows, bowing her head slightly towards her station. “It should not be able to travel the distance to…” She looked up sharply. “I think that it’s from another galaxy, sir.”

“You _think_?” Saru said, his tone dubious.

Michael resisted the urge to scowl and beckoned him over to her station, too impatient to explain it to him. Saru shook his head fondly before striding over to glance at her work.

He stared for a long moment before turning to the rest of the bridge and saying, “Hail them.”

“Hailing, sir.”

Static crackled ominously over the channels, and Michael flinched against the harshness of the noise. This ship looked as if it would have trouble travelling from the Earth to _Jupiter_. How did it travel across galaxies?

A blurry image flickered onto the viewscreen, and Michael leaned forward to analyze what she could, seeing the exhausted-looking, young (apparently human) man bent over the controls, breathing harshly. He was bleeding sluggishly from some sort of head wound, and even though the image was unclear, Michael could see that he looked miserable. In the background of the transmission, the ship was in evident disarray, objects of all sort knocked around in various states of wear. “Don’t shoot,” the man said, voice hoarse. “Please don’t shoot.”

“We mean no harm,” Saru said carefully. The man did not relax. “Do you require assistance? You appear to be…” he trailed off politely.

The man stared at Saru for a long, excruciating pause. “I don’t know,” he said, and then there was a loud, terrible noise. The man whirled around, shouted, “ _No!_ ” and the transmission cut out.

The bridge dropped into a deathly silent tension for a breathless moment. Then, Saru turned around and said, “Beam him out.”

 

* * *

 

# Finn

It had been a long day.

Staggering with exhaustion, Finn reached for his lightsaber and gritted his teeth as the _thing_ melted out of the shadows. It bared its teeth and hissed when Finn ignited his lightsaber, curling away from the glaring brightness of it. He lunged forward and slashed it through the torso, and the rippling darkness of its body curdled away like bad milk.

By the _force_ , it had been a long, long day.

 

* * *

 

 

Last night, the General had given him a top-secret mission that he’d been tasked to run on his own.

“Look, Finn, this is important,” she had said. “Lando is the only one in the galaxy who knows what to do when it comes to beating an army like this. We _need_ him, and last anyone heard, he was holed up in the most dangerous section of the outer rim. He may even be in unknown space now.”

“And I’m the only one who can find him?” Finn asked doubtfully.

The General arched a brow. “Kiddo, with your understanding of the force? You may not be the _only_ one, but you’re the only person who could find him as quickly as we need you to.”

So, Finn had gone to the outer rim, and then he’d gone to unknown space, working against the superstitious warnings of some of the locals he’d met.

“Don’t go out there,” they said. “Nobody _ever_ comes back.”

But Finn was _brave_ , or at least he thought he was, and he’d gone anyway because the Resistance was _counting on him_.

And that’s when he’d disappeared into a stretch of space so dark that it left him shivering, thinking about the blankness of his life before the First Order and how he could disappear into it.

The aliens had melted out of the ship’s shadows on the third day of wandering to the pull of his gut, monsters dripping with darkness and screeching terrible cries. They only stopped with his lightsaber, but they _kept coming_.

Finn hadn’t slept in so long.

He didn’t want to think about it.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, the brightness made him cringe.

He paid it no mind, sitting up and reaching for a lightsaber that wasn’t there, dizzying spikes of dread making his throat close.

“Easy,” a man said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay.”

Finn leaned away from him, glaring. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Unphased, the man took out a high-tech device and scanned him with it. Finn resisted the urge to bat it away. “I’m Doctor Culber, and you’re on the _USS Discovery_. You were dehydrated, sleep-deprived, and had lost a lot of blood when we found you. You need to rest.”

“I have to get back to my ship,” Finn said, voice level and deliberately calm. He could do this. He held out his hand and felt through the force for his lightsaber.

“Okay—that’s fine. The engineering team is fixing it up right now. It should be ready to go in a few days, I think.”

“Days?” Finn echoed, eyes shooting open. “No—I have to go now.”

Culber arched a single judgmental eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” he deadpanned.

“Look, is there someone I can talk to about this?”

“Hugh?” a new voice said, and Finn watched a woman walk into the room, a sleek flat device clutched in her hands. She stared at Finn as she drew closer. “How is he?”

“He just woke up and is givin’ me the whole ‘THIS IS URGENT’ spiel.”

The woman nodded and approached, lifting her right hand in a strange gesture that separated her fingers unnaturally. “I’m Michael Burnham, commanding science officer of this vessel.”

“Okay,” Finn said apprehensively.

“Where do you come from?”

The question made Finn clench his jaw, and he fought back the empty gaping part of his brain where memories _should_ be. “Nowhere,” he said, and, hell, it was the truth.

“Well, I’m a human from Vulcan,” Michael supplied, looking at him expectantly. “Doctor Culber is a human from Earth.”

“Okay.” Finn didn’t recognize either of those planets. “Outer rim?” he asked.

Michael cocked her head to the side slightly. “Is that from your galaxy?” she asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

Finn narrowed his eyes. “ _My_ galaxy? Where exactly do you think—”

At this moment, the ship lurched violently, and Finn snapped into focus, searching through the force for his lightsaber with renewed urgency. He found it in an instant, and it flew into his hand. He jumped to his feet, igniting it.

Michael and Culber had grabbed onto various surfaces to steady themselves, but they were staring at Finn’s hand. Culber’s mouth had dropped open.

“Now, _that_ is interesting,” Michael said, and she almost smiled.

 

* * *

 

# Thor

It was, truly, just his luck that he’d ended up smashing directly into a ginormous space ship.

After the creepy dumb wizard of Hozardium had cast his lame spell before disappearing into a cloud of stardust, Thor had honestly thought he was in the clear when he hadn’t been instantly turned into some sort of alien insect.

But, evidently, the wizard had an exceptional sense of humor, because his spell must have transported him directly to a collision course with the absurdly gigantic ship before him. He jerked the controls in alarm and ended up scraping the underbelly of the saucer.

Crisis averted? Maybe?

The face of an alien popped up on his window, and Thor squeaked in alarm, flinching back.

The alien looked pissed.

“I am Saru, Captain of the _USS Discovery_. Unidentified vessel, explain yourself.”

Thor rubbed the back of his hand, still unused to his hair’s short length. “This is a misunderstanding! I am Thor, son of Odin, and some wizard just teleported me here. I think—”

“Did he say Thor?” a voice said in the transmission’s background. “Like—the old Nordic god?”

“Old?” Thor echoed in disbelief.

“Regardless of who you are, thankfully, the collision only caused minor damage. Is your ship functional?” Saru asked.

Thor frowned, tapping a few diagnostic keys. “It’s fine,” he muttered. “Just…out of fuel.” He scowled. It’d had a _full tank_ before that wizard showed up. “Can you tell me where we are?”

Saru looked away at that. “We are not so sure ourselves.” He hesitated. “Perhaps you’d care to dock in our loading bay. We can figure this out together. It seems we are in a similar situation.”

Thor weighed his options and shrugged. “Fine by me.”

“Excellent.”

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Thor was being escorted down clean hallways into a room labelled “Medical Bay.” Thor had assured the very nice humans who had helped dock his ship that he was fine, and yes, he had lost his eye way before this, but they guided him over here anyway. It was the least he could do to go with it, given that he had crashed into their very nice ship.

“…not going to tell you anything,” a young man was saying to two humans dressed in the ship’s uniform, clutching some sort of glowing weapon.

“We are here to _help_ ,” the woman in uniform said.

“Sure.”

“Um. Doctor Culber. Commander Burnham,” the woman escorting him interrupted nervously, gesturing to Thor. “Uh. Another visitor?”

“Hi,” Thor said, waving a little bit sheepishly.

“Wow,” the man said, eyes wide.

The man with the glowing weapon took their distraction as an opportunity to move back into a more advantageous position. In the flash of his gaze, Thor recognized the weariness of a fellow warrior and felt a wave of sympathy.

“I’m Thor,” he said to the two uniformed humans.

“Doctor Culber,” the man said at the same time that the woman said, “Michael Burnham.”

“And you?” Thor said, looking to the man with the tired eyes and a soldier’s stance.

He faltered a little bit. “Finn,” he said softly, as if surprised by the sound of his own voice.

A silence fell between everyone in the room, and it was a contemplative sort of thing. Finn clicked a button, and his glowing weapon shrank down to an unassuming metal hilt.

“I’ve got—work,” the woman who had escorted Thor here blurted out, exiting the room in a hurry.

“Patients,” Culber said in an equally awkward tone. He placed his hand briefly on Michael’s shoulder before hurrying to the far end of the Medical Bay, out of earshot, presumably.

Michael leaned her hip against the hospital bed next to her, crossing her arms as she examined Thor and Finn. “I think we need to work together,” she declared.

Finn rubbed the back of his head. “You really are from a different galaxy, huh?” he said, some of his exhaustion bleeding into a tentative sort of curiosity.

“Yes,” Michael said. “And we _really_ mean you no harm.”

“Right.”

“I don’t mean any harm either,” Thor added belatedly, feeling slightly left out of the conversation. “I should probably return to Earth, but I have absolutely no idea which way that is.”

“You’re from Earth?” Michael asked.

“Are you not?”

“Vulcan,” she said, bristling a little bit.

“I am afraid I do not know of that planet.”

“How do you not…?”

“I’ve never heard of it either—don’t worry,” Finn said, flashing a sheepish little smile.

“Are you from an alternate universe?” Michael asked Thor, attention piqued. “Do Norse gods exist there?”

“Uh, Norse gods exist regardless of dimension,” Thor said, crossing his arms. “Have you truly never heard of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?”

Michael stared at him blankly. “Isn’t that something from the twenty-first century?”

Thor blinked. “Last I checked, yes.”

“Oh, dear. This is the twenty- _third_ century.”

“Oh, dear,” Thor echoed. That wizard _really_ must have a sense of humor.

“So, what? I somehow got into the wrong galaxy, and you somehow got into the wrong time?” Finn said, looking bewildered. “That should be impossible.”

“My ship may be in the wrong place or time, too,” Michael admitted. “Our spore drive gets temperamental sometimes.”

“Spore drive?” Thor said.

Before Michael could address that, the ship’s background hum stuttered, and the lights flickered before shutting off.

“Oh, god,” Finn said. “Not again.”

“What?” Thor said, tensing in preparation, watching Finn flick on his glowing weapon again.

From the shadows, a humanoid form seemed to ooze into existence, grotesquely dripping with darkness. It let out a horrific shriek, and Thor clapped his hands over his ears in surprise. He watched as Michael reached for a gun-like weapon at her hip, and Finn twirled his weapon expertly.

Before either Thor or Michael could jump into action, Finn leapt forward and slashed the creature in half. It shrieked again as it died away, and Finn turned to face them grimly. “I’m sorry. I think I brought them to you,” he admitted, voice cracking.

“What was that?” Michael said, voice gentle but eyes wide.

Finn’s expression was grave in the sickly light of his weapon. “I don’t know,” he whispered, “but they won’t leave me alone.”

“That is going to be a problem,” Thor said, grimacing. _All_ he had wanted to do was find the remaining Asgardian refugees, and now some wizard with the most terrible sense of humor in the history of ever had transported him to the wrong time, the wrong place, and he was with the wrong people.

Michael rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I’ve got to talk to my Captain.”

“Or you could just let me go finish my mission, and the monsters will probably leave you alone,” Finn said hopefully.

Michael shot him a judgmental glare. “That goes against Starfleet principles on so many levels.”

So, Thor leaned against the wall and said what they were all thinking. “Well, this sucks.”

Finn and Michael exchanged a glance before looking back at Thor. “Yeah,” they agreed in unison.

The lights continued to flicker.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come talk to me on my disco tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/michaelburnhamfanclub)


End file.
